"Tim Otis? Otis had better mind his own business," grumbled the coach. "So that was it, then. All right. I'm glad to get the _truth_ of the matter." The little tightening of Don's mouth didn't escape him. "Now, then, I'm going to surprise you, Gilbert. I'm going to surprise you mightily. I'm going to tell you that Walton is _not_ a better left guard than you. He isn't nearly so good. That does surprise you, doesn't it?" Don nodded, his eyes fixed uneasily on the coach's. "Well, there it is, anyway. And so I think the best thing for all of us, Gilbert, is for you to come back to work this afternoon." Don's look of dismay quite startled the other. "But I'd rather not, sir! I--I'm out of practice now. I've quit training. I've been eating all sorts of things; potatoes and fresh bread and pastry--no end of pastry, sir!--and--and candy----" Mr. Robey grunted. "You don't show it," he said. "Anyway, I guess that won't matter. I'll chance it. Three o'clock, then, Gilbert." Don's gaze sought the floor and he shook his head. "I'd rather not, sir, if you don't mind," he muttered. "But I do mind. The team needs you, Gilbert! And now that I know that you didn't quit because you were _afraid_----" "I did, though!" Don looked up desperately. "That was the truth of it!" Mr. Robey sighed deeply. "Gilbert," he said patiently, "if I couldn't lie better than you can I wouldn't try it! You weren't afraid and you aren't afraid and you know it and I know it! So, then, is it Walton?" After a moment Don nodded silently. "You think he's a better man than you are, eh?" Don nodded again, but hesitatingly. "Or you've taken pity on him and want him to play against Claflin, perhaps." "Yes, sir. You see, his folks are going to be here and they'll expect him to play!" "Oh, I see. You and Walton come from the same town? But of course you don't. How did you know his folks were coming, then?" "He told me." "When?" "About--some time last week." "Was it the day you had that talk about the position and which of you was to have it?" "I guess so. Yes, sir, it was that time." "And he, perhaps, suggested that it would be a nice idea for you to back out and let him in, eh?" Don was silent. "Did he?" insisted the coach. "He said that his folks were coming----" "And that he'd like to get into the game so they wouldn't be disappointed?" "Something like that," murmured Don. "And you consented?" "Not exactly, but I thought it over and--and----" Mr. Robey suddenly leaned forward and laid a hand on Don's knee. "Gilbert," he asked quietly, "_what has Walton got on you_?" CHAPTER XXIV "ALL READY, BRIMFIELD?"